February 17, 2010

Long title, I know. It should actually read: How ‘New guy’ went from lust object, to fuck buddy, to friend, to me-realising-he’s-a-waste-of-my-time.

Things were going well: the sex was great, and when we were together I felt appreciated and included in his life. I had been introduced to friends, and as we worked in similar fields it was great to talk to someone who knew what i was rambling on about. Reading back on this last paragraph, all these qualities, except the ‘sex being great’ quality, identifies a friend.

As the long distance and our work prevented us spending greater periods of time apart, we relied on emails, texts and phone calls for communication. But even after a while I would go days, sometimes a week or more without hearing from him! This brought back my old feelings of insecurity and worthlessness.

Thanks to a few wonderful friends, I realised this wasn’t actually a relationship. If we met up one weekend every two months, that was just friends with benefits. There was no basis for any real emotions to be going on, and I had entered the realm of friendship (with sex) instead of an intense, passionate relationship. I cut to the chase and told him that if he wanted to continue seeing me (albeit sparsely) he should make an effort to communicate more.

I got a reply at 1am the next morning saying he didn’t get in from work until 11pm and was tired and going to bed. How else to take this? I suggested we remain friends. Which is what we’d wound our way to being in the end.

However, I was happy that we still chatted. I was grateful for his advice on how to handle office politics and just the general chit-chat. I actually thought I’d managed to do something that had previously eluded me – keep a ex as a friend. All this changed when I told him I was dating someone new. He went a bit, well….weird and made a sarcastic comment on it and proceeded to compeltely ignore me.

October 12, 2009

I’m going to write these tales in chronological order, so then I can mentally delete them as I write them down. Makes sense to me! So first up, we have the last time me and William ever had sex. It wasn’t pleasant, at least towards the end of our early morning session.

He had come to visit me at uni, as I was still working to try and finish my MSc, whereas he had finished his degree and had moved back home. In the morning I was frantically trying to get ready for uni, as I had a lot to do in the lab that day, and William was, typically, taking his time and occasionally getting in the way. As we stood in the house, saying our goodbyes, something happened: a tingle up my spine as he held me, and a sudden urge to just drag him to bed and have him straight away. The thought of driving to uni was pushed to the back of my mind as it was overpowered by the need to have him pressed against me.

We smashed our lips into each other, kissing frantically whilst tearing off our clothes. I pulled him with me as I moved towards the bed, and we both collapsed, him on top of me, into the soft bedding. There was no foreplay – somehow, we didn’t need it, as we just wanted it that badly.

But it turns out that we did need foreplay: as William withdrew after our respective orgasms, a pool of blood formed on my duvet. William had torn his foreskin.

He had done this before, so this surprised me that it had happened again – surely it had hurt and he would have stopped? Apparently it did hurt, but that wasn’t enough to stop him.

It came to light in a later conversation between the two of us, after we had split up, that he knew we weren’t doing too well, but he was willing to do anything to try and make it better. Which is sweet, in a way. But is a relationship really worth spilling blood over, when you know that it’s effectively ended?

October 12, 2009

I moved into my own flat – the first time I’ve ever lived entirely on my own. But guess what? Loving that too.

And Men. Yes, with a capital M, so you can realise just how much of an impact Men have had on my life for the past two months.

I will return with stories of sessions with William (both whilst we were together and issues arisen recently), the Bass Player fling that turned ugly, and how an old flame has re-entered my life (and probably not the one you think!).

June 12, 2009

Well, primarily due to me being busy and him having exams, and also due to the new rules not working. He is still blowing hot and cold with me, and taking his annoyance out on me.

It has also come to my attention that he is, in fact, only staying at this university to do his postgraduate degree because I’m here. So when I expressed interest in completing the rest of my PhD elsewhere, he has actually gone ahead and applied to whatever college will have him in that city ‘just in case’.

June 4, 2009

These are not strict rules that say what you can and cannot do, like the laws of the land. More, guildlines for a relationship, specifically, William’s and mine.

Last night felt more like a booty call when I turned up at William’s at nearly 1am. I choose to blame my friend who got me lost in town, and we spent our time looking for any road sign that mentioned where we wanted to be. But it wasn’t a booty call, as we were both tired, and had to be up uber early in the morning. That didn’t stop William wanting me. It didn’t stop me wanting William. But it did stop me wanting sex.

The prospect of a semi-decent night’s sleep in times when my thesis is due for submission in 8 days was too alluring. But William wouldn’t take ‘no’ for an answer. Many times he forced my hand down to his crotch, where there were no clothes restricting access, as he’d announced he was naked a few moments earlier. I tried to pleasure him without actual penetrative sex, but it didn’t satisfy him, and he just kept pestering, until I decided to curl up in a ball on the edge of the bed, no pillow and minimal duvet, and go to sleep, ignoring him the best I could.

During sleep, we gravitated to our usual entwined position of sleep, but I had to wake up and remember why I was annoyed with him and pull away. In the early morning light, I got up silently and left.

Phone calls a couple of hours later were an attempt to solve this problem: neither of us could wait until later this evening to sort it out, and it seemed silly to keep each other in suspense.

So the new rules are:

To do more stuff together outside of the bedroom. At the moment, it’s just sex and sleeping. Pretty boring, and guaranteed to make one feel like nothing more than a fuck buddy,

Try and forget about the fact we have thesis’s to do and hand in, and revision to do.

I need to try and play with him more, and acknowledge the fact he, too, requires just as much attention as me during sex.

William needs to acknowledge that when I say ‘not tonight, babe’ to sex, I mean it. No emotional blackmail/pressure/forcing my hand down to hard on.

May 1, 2009

During my previous post I mentioned how I was feeling a bit confused about me and William. I’d arranged to meet up with him on Monday night (with flirty texts the night before) and tried to feel happy about seeing him…..but couldn’t. There was something knawing at me, and I knew what it was:

I needed to tell him about the miscarriage.

If I didn’t, I’d continue to feel like this, and treat him the way I’d been treating him: being high as a kite one minute, and grumpy the next; being arsy with him; basically trying to avoid him. I figured I couldn’t end it without telling him. I could tell him and he could decide for himself. If he got angry and upset about it, and indeed, about me waiting nearly two months to tell him, he was quite right to end things with me. It was scary, but I honestly couldn’t keep deceiving myself, or him.

I went round to his, and he’d cooked a lovely meal. He’d made an effort, he really had, because he’d missed me. And when he misses me, he misses something else too…..

I wasn’t quite in the mood for sex, and tried to delicately avoid his advances. This worked up until a point where he asked me what was wrong, wondering if it was something he’d done, which made me feel worse! He hadn’t done anything wrong, why did he deserve such a tight, grumpy bitch of a girlfriend?! We were lying in bed, facing each other, heads on pillows, although I wanted to look anywhere but directly at him:

“I have something to tell you, something I’ve been keeping from you, and you’re not going to like it. Just know that the reason I didn’t tell you is because you had your PhD interview and your exams and I didn’t want to get in the way and worry you”.

He stared at me like I was about to cut out his heart. God knows what was running through his mind at that point.

“OK, you’re really scaring me now LS, what’s going on?”

“You know when I had problems in March, and I told you it was an infection?”

“Yeaaahhhhhhh…..?”

“Well it wasn’t.”

At this point William is fidgeting and looking shit scared.

“They think I may have had a miscarriage”.

“What?!”

I re-told the story that I told you guys, to him. Tears were running down my cheeks as I told him I got opinion after opinion, because I myself didn’t believe them when they told me!

“Why didn’t you tell me LS? You know I would’ve been there for you, regardless of interviews and exams. I’m so sorry you had to go through it on your own.”

I was completely shocked by his reaction. It was so calm, so caring. But then again, how could I have expected anything else? William is the sweetest, kindest, most attentive man I’ve met. My friends have pointed out to me on many occasion that he adores me. Why would I think that this guy who loves me, and who I love, would ever hate me for an accident I didn’t even know about? Now I think about it, it makes sense.

I did point out to him and remind him about a conversation we had about children, and him saying that he’d be freaked out if I got pregnant now because he wouldn’t know what to do.

He looked sheepish and apologised, and re-iterated that he would have wanted to be there for me.

“Promise you won’t keep things from me again? I want to be there for you”.

Awwww.

So things are all happy again in LS-land. I’m happy, we’re both happy. There’s nothing between us now, hanging there like a dark cloud that keeps raining on my parade.

April 25, 2009

I asked my friend a question today: is it bad to enjoy time away from your partner?

My friend replied: no, it’s fine, it’s when you stop enjoying time together that it’s bad. Very wise man :p

Anyway, me and William have had a week apart due to his having exams, and me going home for a break from university, and also because it’s been a year since my nan died (can you believe it?!). I’ve had lots to do, though, like catching up with friends, and taking part in extreme sports, besides spending time with the family. But I’ve had a good time, and I’ve enjoyed the time on my own.

Of course, with William revising and sitting exams, the texts and phone calls haven’t been flowing as often as they usually do. What was bad, though, was one day in the week I realised that I hadn’t heard from him all day….and I was ok with that. I just waited for him to text me. I wasn’t fussed about whether I heard from him or not.

To be honest, I don’t know what I’m trying to say in this post. Am I just stressed with trying to do too many things at once, and William’s stress of exams and postgraduate applications are just adding to that? Or have I, God forbid, stopped enjoying time with him?

What actually worried me enough to write this post was him texting me asking when he could see me next week so he could seduce me. And I found myself thinking ‘it’s not that simple’, like he’s pissed me off somehow and he needs to make it up to me before I will have sex with him again. But I don’t know what happened to make me feel like that. I’ve been feeling out of the mood for sex for a couple of weeks now. I don’t even want to masturbate, and I’m not missing sex. I’m sure this is linked to how I’m feeling about William at the moment. But I don’t know what’s brought it on.

So it builds up, as I feel guilty for being apprehensive, or even not feeling bothered, about spending the night together, and then rush to the mind set of ‘it isn’t working! End it now!’ when probably all it needs is me to spend time with him again.